‘Your behaviour is the problem, not mine,’ she returned. ‘You seem intent on deliberately picking a fight at every opportunity which I can only assume is because of a puerile attempt on your part to vicariously get back at my father for failing you in your fellowship.’
Ben’s brows snapped together. ‘I suppose you’ve discussed me at length with him, have you?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I haven’t even told him yet you’re my boss.’
‘I know exactly what he’ll say if and when you do,’ he said. ‘He’ll tell you I’m a country hick with hay stuck between my teeth and a slack attitude to study.’
‘If my father failed you, he would have only done so because he believed you weren’t up to the required standard at the time,’ Georgie said.
Ben leaned forward with his elbows on the table. ‘He failed me because he was a bigoted snob who didn’t like the fact that I had the guts to stand up to him, instead of simpering about in his exalted presence like the rest of my peers.’
Georgie had to clamp her mouth over her stinging retort when Gina appeared with their food. She gave the Italian woman a smile that stretched her mouth uncomfortably.
Once Gina had bustled away again Ben broke the brittle silence. ‘If your father didn’t tell you about my history with him, who did?’
‘Richard DeBurgh,’ she answered, as she picked up her cutlery. ‘And, like me, he thinks you’re being petty and childish about harping on about it.’
Ben’s lip lifted. ‘Oh, does he, now?’
‘Yes.’
‘So you’re pretty chummy with him, are you?’
‘I only met him for the first time today so I’d hardly call us best friends but, unlike you, he was nothing but helpful and encouraging towards me.’
‘I hate to burst your feminine ego bubble but he’s helpful and encouraging to all the female registrars,’ he said. ‘The only trouble, of course, is he’s married, so if you are thinking of upping your chances of a good report from him by sleeping with him, you’d better think again.’
Georgie put down her cutlery with a noisy clatter. ‘That’s a disgusting assumption to make, not only about him but me as well.’
His held her challenging glare. ‘So you’re pretty choosy, huh?’ he asked.
She picked up her fork and gave her ravioli a little jab. ‘I have certain standards, yes,’ she answered.
‘Lots of money being one of them, I take it.’
Georgie pursed her mouth as she met his taunting look. ‘You have a rather poor opinion of women, don’t you? Money is not an issue for me, neither is it for a lot of women. What women want in this day and age is a man who is reliable, faithful and not afraid of showing how much he cares for her. If I found a man like that, I wouldn’t care if he earned half my wage or even a quarter.’
‘You wouldn’t have to, given your wealthy background,’ he pointed out cynically. ‘Your father could top up the bank account for you any time you asked.’
She put down her cutlery again and this time got to her feet as well. ‘I can see this is going to be a complete waste of time and food, sitting here with you,’ she said. ‘I thought the last man I went on a date with was bad but you’ve taken dates from hell down to a whole new level.’
He leaned back in his chair indolently. ‘If you recall, we aren’t technically on a date,’ he reminded her coolly.
Georgie was momentarily stuck for a retort.
‘Are you going to sit down and eat that or not?’ he asked, indicating her barely touched food.
She put her hand on her hip and glared at him. ‘I suppose this is the part where you give me the boy from the poor background lecture on wasting perfectly good food, is it?’
‘No,’ Ben said. ‘This is the part where I tell you that unless you sit down and finish that meal, Gina and Roberto will feel incredibly insulted. They’re nice people and have worked hard to build up this restaurant and will take it personally if you walk out without doing justice to what they prepared for you.’
A battle seemed to be playing out on her face but in the end she blew out a breath and sat down again, her expression stormy as she resumed eating almost mechanically, as if she couldn’t wait to get away from his presence.
He watched her as she chomped and chewed, her toffee-brown gaze clashing with his from time to time, twin pools of pink on her cheeks.
He let the silence throb for a few more minutes before he broke it with, ‘Tell me more about this dating embargo you’re on. How did that come about?’
She gave a little grimace as she dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her napkin. ‘My flatmate and I have had the most appallingly bad luck with men,’ she said. ‘We decided to make a pact to see if we could stay the distance. Three months with no official dates. If one of us breaks the deal we have to pay one thousand dollars.’